


Motivation

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A Little Incentive Goes A Long Way, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exhibitionism, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kink Meme, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Teasing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, as per usual Raven is struggling with her emotions, niytavia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: For The January 2020 Round of The 100 Kink MemePrompt: Murphy doesn't want to do something so Raven dangles a carrot by telling him she'll have sex/give him sexual favors if he gets certain milestones done
Relationships: John Murphy/Raven Reyes
Comments: 39
Kudos: 126
Collections: The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, this is my 6th fill for this round of the Kink Meme, and it is my 35th Murven story overall. 😮😮😮  
> I'm working on the next installment!

* * *

He was driving her crazy. Absolutely, up-the-wall, ready to scream _crazy_. 

For days, Murphy hadn’t stopped _talking_ during every waking moment she was in their shared apartment. He was supposed to be working on some big report for one of his classes that constituted a huge chunk of his grade, but he was moaning and complaining - constantly, she might add - about how it just wasn’t coming together and Raven had had _enough_. 

It hadn’t been too horrible the first day, when she’d opened the front door to find him in the kitchen with pots and pans everywhere, and he’d explained he’d turned to cooking to try to distract him and let the ideas marinate. She'd rolled her eyes at the pun but she’d listened to him rant and rave about the paper for a while, knowing there’d be a reward at the end of it, and oh there was. The big, cheesy tray of kale lasagna he had made was almost gone now, and she wouldn’t mind if he used the cooking coping mechanism again, even if it did turn their tiny kitchen into chaos for hours at a time, and even if it did mean he’d convince her to help him clean up again, like he did that first night even as he continued to whine about how he couldn’t locate the source for some who-knows-how-old fact he wanted to cite. 

But no, that wasn’t what happened. Apparently the cooking hadn’t worked, as evidenced by the knock on her bathroom door the next morning during her shower, and she wasn’t awake enough to stop him from cracking it open to ask her for her opinion on whether or not he’d had a brilliant break-through at three AM or whether he was just fooling himself. If she’d been on her toes, she would have used that line as a great way to insult him, but with shampoo in her hair and no coffee yet in her veins, she barely managed a grunt in response. 

One of the reasons they worked so well together as roommates was because neither of them were big talkers, and this unusual bout of nervousness from Murphy actually was a bit worrisome once she really thought it over. It wasn’t like him to be this stressed out about his studies, and after he poured her a mug of coffee just before she left for her own class, she decided maybe she’d go easier on him. 

That plan went right out the window when she got back before dinner and Murphy was tossing a tennis ball off a wall in his bedroom. The constant _thonk thonk thonk thonk_ of the bouncing made her grit her teeth in agitation, made worse by the fact that she had her own studying to do. So they fought about it and eventually she won the round when Murphy threw the ball out their open window and towards the trees, but she had to admit that she didn’t _really_ win when Murphy dragged his books to the coffee table next to her and proceeded to talk without stopping for almost forty minutes before he ran out of things to say. And then she had around six minutes of blessed silence before he started in again. 

Now, as she cautiously opens their front door on what will be the third evening of her torture, Raven makes up her mind that she’s going to do whatever it takes to encourage him to just _write_ the damn thing. She’s beginning to think maybe Murphy’s problem is perfection rather than some kind of writer’s block, and even though he’s driving her absolutely _insane_ at the moment, he really is a good friend despite all his faults. 

For once he’s not home before she is, so she kicks off her shoes and flops down on the couch, throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the sunlight. The next thing she’s aware of is an arm slipping under her knees and lifting them, and then Murphy is sitting at the end of the couch with her legs in his lap as he outdoes himself with another long speech about what direction he could take his research. 

She struggles to sit up a little and glares at him so he knows she means business. “Okay, that’s it, Murphy. I’ve had it! You’ve been bitching and bellyaching for days now and I am _done_ listening to it all! This isn’t like you and my ears are about to fall off, but luckily I’m going to help you out anyway.”

“Is that so?” Murphy counters. “What are you gonna do, write my paper for me?”

“No, dumbass. I’m going to help inspire you! I think one of your problems is that you need motivation to help get you started, and once you get going, it’ll all come together so you can stop this constant hemming and hawing about what direction to take your paper in. So let’s see… lemme think for a minute.”

Raven considers for a few moments before smiling triumphantly. “I’ve got it. If you can get five hundred words down before dinner - and not final draft words, FYI, just in some kind of order that makes sense - then I’ll do all the dishes tonight.”

Murphy rolls his eyes as he gently smacks her ankles. “Real smooth, Reyes, considering it’s your night to do dishes anyway.”

“Oh, right.” Yeah, she should’ve thought that one through a little better. “Okay then, how about I make dinner both nights this weekend?”

“Tempting,” Murphy grins, “but then again if I wanted to eat lukewarm, tasteless macaroni and cheese, I could just go down to the cafeteria.”

She opens her mouth to stick up for herself but his accusation really isn’t far off the mark. “Fine! I’ll think of something else then!”

“And what is it that you have that you think I’d want?” Murphy taunts, his blue eyes laughing at her. 

That’s when it hits her. She knows _exactly_ what she has that Murphy wants, and maybe the time has come to let go of her qualms about it. 

Two years ago she hadn’t known Murphy existed. Then her ex-roommate had sprung it on her that she didn’t want to renew their lease so she could move in with her boyfriend and Raven had found herself in a bind, trying to find someone to split the rent with and who she also didn’t want to murder every other day. She’d put the word out to all her friends, ending up with Bellamy introducing her to Murphy one night over drinks. There’d been a mutual attraction right away that they both were fully aware of, but after that first memorable meeting Raven had shown him the apartment, and the rest, as they say, was history. From the beginning, she and Murphy had come to an unspoken understanding that much as they might _look_ and insinuate, they weren’t going to screw up their arrangement by falling into bed together. And they’d kept it that way ever since. 

Still, it wasn’t that she isn’t tempted. She likes Murphy, and not just because he pays his bills on time and is an excellent cook who keeps her fed better than she’s ever experienced. Lately her thoughts have been veering even more inappropriately than usual, and it hasn’t helped that a few of her girlfriends have started to smirk at her knowingly when everyone gets together, most likely because they knew _exactly_ what she’s thinking when she stares at Murphy while he isn’t paying attention. 

It was a risk, but she was good at taking those. And anyway, she wants to know. 

“This time I think you’ll be interested,” she teases, and she can feel the pounding of her heart ramp up in anticipation. “Same scenario where you get five hundred cohesive words done by dinner, and I’ll still do the dishes, but I’ll do them naked.”

His fingers stop their dancing over the fuzzy softness of her socks, his whole body abruptly motionless. 

“Are you being serious right now?” 

Murphy looks at her intently, the laughter gone from his eyes, and her throat feels suddenly tight as she holds his gaze and nods nervously. 

He carefully extricates himself out from under her legs and stands up, and with him looming over her like this, Raven feels a shiver go through her. 

“So what you’re saying is that _you’ll_ be the incentive,” Murphy confirms, and god she’s turned on already and really, absolutely no doubt she should have thought this through a lot more. 

“Yeah.”

It’s embarrassing that one syllable is all she can muster, but Murphy doesn’t seem to mind as he looks down at her fiercely before turning to stalk off towards his room. She doesn’t know if he means for her to hear it or not, but as he goes she swears he mumbles something about her playing dirty. 

* * *

Time seems to drag as Raven waits in her room for the dinnertime deadline. Murphy didn’t actually confirm that he’d attempt to fulfill her offer, but he didn’t need to. The prospect of seeing her naked isn’t going to be one he’ll turn down, and she’s sure he’ll meet her requirements. So sure of it that she decides to change out of her mismatched bra and panties for something a little more...provocative. She already knows he’s attracted to her, but the lacy lilac set makes her feel more confident, even if he won’t be seeing her in it for long since the deal is that she’ll be completely naked. 

She tries not to think about what’s going to happen next, but it’s impossible not to wonder how this is going to go down, and more importantly, how both of them are going to feel afterwards. Reminding herself that it’s just nudity calms her down a little, but then she remembers it’s nudity with _Murphy_ and her nerves skyrocket again, and she’d never, ever confess to it, but she spends the majority of the time in her room pacing instead of having the relaxed, nonchalant attitude she’s aiming for. 

Eventually the clock moves and their regular ‘if-we’re-both-home-we-eat-dinner-together’ habit kicks in, and Raven heads to the kitchen. Murphy had pulled some kind of chicken dish out of the freezer and popped it into the oven, but Raven barely tastes it as an awkward silence rises between them. Neither one of them is particularly chatty on a regular day anyway, but there’s a tension present now that reminds Raven their relationship is about to move to another level whether they’re ready for it or not, and her shoulders slump in relief when Murphy finishes eating and gets up from their little breakfast bar. He comes back after only a few moments, a few papers in his hand. 

“Do you want to count the words?” he asks, and damn if he isn’t mocking her. Why she should find that so appealing really ticks her off, but the surge of wetness in her panties can’t be ignored. 

“No,” she grits out, “just give them to me so I can read it.”

He holds the stack out towards her and Raven starts to skim the neat lines of the typed pages. The research paper is about some ancient civilization and Murphy’s hypothesis about the influences of their language, and normally she’d be interested in his thoughts but tonight the letters all blur together. But even with her mental disarray, she’s pretty certain he’s a good chunk over five hundred words - probably closer to eight hundred if she really did count them. 

She puts the sheets down on the counter and gets up, taking both plates with her to the sink. Their kitchen is too small for a table, so the breakfast bar is where they take most of their meals, and it divides the kitchen and the living room. She can feel Murphy’s gaze on her as she wipes down the counter and puts the leftovers away in the fridge while she considers exactly how to proceed. 

“A deal’s a deal,” she says, bending down to slip off her socks. Her jeans are next and though it occurs to her she could probably make this into a little more of a show, she’s too anxious to make it a sexy strip tease and simply leans a hand near the sink while she releases her brace and tugs her pants over her ankles. When she lifts her sweater up over her head she risks her first glance at Murphy, who’s slouching down onto one of the stools, for once his expression unreadable. 

It’s chilly in only her bra and panties but the longer she doesn’t look away from Murphy, the warmer she gets. He’ll have a sideways view of her once she turns to wash the dishes, but for now she faces him straight on. Raven drops her sweater onto the floor, waiting a few beats before her fingers float up to the front clasp of her bra. The way he’s watching her with such focus turns her on more than she expected - her nipples are so stiff that the lace material catches on them as she pulls the fabric away from her breasts and slowly down her arms. 

There’s goosebumps all over her skin now, though it’s not at all due to being cold. No, it’s because it’s so easy to imagine that it’s Murphy’s fingers hooking into the sides of her panties and sliding them down her hips. So easy to feel his hunger as his eyes greedily roam over her body and she realizes that even though she’s the one who’s naked and vulnerable, all the power here is _hers_. The knowledge thrills her, the worries and the nerves suddenly draining away until all that’s left is the yearning. 

Smiling enigmatically with the secret of it, Raven pivots towards the faucet and runs the water til it’s hot, squirting soap from the bottle into the messy pan. She’s never viewed washing dishes to be a sexy scenario, but as she submerges her hands into the fragrant water and runs her fingers along the inside of a smooth glass, she’s ready to reconsider. It makes her think about touching Murphy, about being wet and slippery together until she’s so caught up in the illusion that she’s washing the last plate before she knows it. Shaking her head to clear it, she pulls the stopper out of the drain and rinses the bubbles away, aware her skin is flushed and her breath unsteady. She’d meant to sneak furtive glances at Murphy, to try and decipher how he was reacting to her nakedness and to see if he was as excited by it as she was, and instead she’d spent the whole time fantasizing and now it was over. 

She senses Murphy behind her before she’s finished drying her hands, and when she turns to face him he’s so close she can feel the heat from his body melt into her like warm sunlight. He keeps his hands to himself but she can practically feel the rugged glide of them over her breasts because she wants it so much. There’s no mistaking the bulge in his pants that’s so close to pressing against her belly if he’d just take half a step forward, and it’s only the interruption of his gruff voice that stops her from popping open the button on his jeans. 

“That was...extremely helpful.”

Oh, that lust-roughened tone was going to do her in, just like that. It hits her that she could come if he leaned down and spoke a few dirty words directly into her ear, his hot breath and the husky, aroused timbre combining to make her stomach clench and her pussy slicker. Her eyelids flutter shut and he has to notice the stutter in her breathing and how her mouth drops open on a gasp. He’s got to touch her, he _has_ to or she’s going to burn right up. 

One warm finger trails over her shoulder and down to the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow, and he does lean in, must be reading her mind as his mouth brushes over her ear and she shudders with the pleasure of it. 

“Think of another bribe for tomorrow,” Murphy demands, and then his welcome heat is gone, taken away as he walks back to his room and the sound of his door closing is loud in the quiet kitchen. 

Raven grabs onto the counter for support, her knees legitimately weak from their little game, and she’s torn between cursing him or thanking him for the myriad ways he’s just influenced the next million or so times she’s going to get herself off. He’s tricky, her Murphy, and if he wants to play dirty then so be it. If another bribe is what he wants, then another bribe is what he’ll get. Though he might not be ready for how far she’s willing to take this, now that she knows just how much fun she can have coming up with... _motivation_ for him. 

But first she needs to ease this ache between her legs, and as she walks by Murphy’s room and hears the faint sound of his shower, she knows she’s got him exactly where she wants him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while! This quarantine situation actually has me with less time than normal to write, since hubby & kiddos are home 24/7 as well. Hope the wait was worth it with this latest chapter!

* * *

Raven spends most of the night tossing and turning, considering and then discarding various bribes she can offer Murphy the next day. She’s undeniably turned on by the possibilities, wondering how far he’ll let her push whatever this mad bargain is between them. Part of her wants to drag it out, intrigued by how long she could tease him and make them both desperate to finally have sex after denying themselves for years. But as the sun gets brighter through her curtains, the loudest voice inside her head keeps reminding her that she’s already waited long enough, and now that they’ve both made their interest clear, she realizes she’s not sure she wants to continue being patient. 

For so long she tried to keep the potential between them locked away, putting Murphy firmly in the ‘friends only’ category, though she’ll admit lately it’s been tougher to stop herself from letting her mind wander when she’s looking at him. It’s difficult to put her finger on exactly what changed, what prompted her to make that impulsive offer to get him to do his paper, but it’s been building ever since Bellamy first introduced them. And the more she thinks about it, it feels like an inevitable conclusion that they were always going to have sex - it was simply a matter of when. Now that she’s opened the door fully, giving herself permission to step over the line and damn the consequences, well… It’s going to be almost impossible to focus on other things until she _knows._

She’s still thinking about it during her morning shower, strangely awake and wired despite her lack of solid sleep, and as she pours her body wash into her palm, smoothing it over her breasts and stomach while wishing they were his hands caressing her, her thoughts finally slot into place. It’s a bold choice, but she’s not one for hints once she knows what she wants, and anyway, she can’t wait to have his eyes on her again. 

* * *

She sends him a text around eight-fifteen, after she’s had her coffee but before she has to walk out the door for her own classes. Murphy left earlier, which she’ll take as a stroke of luck since she isn’t sure if she could actually coax the words of this bribe out of her mouth while he was standing right in front of her. Taking a deep breath, Raven curls up on their couch to type the outrageous proposal out, carefully rereading before she hits send. 

_If you get a thousand words done by tonight, I’ll let you watch me masturbate_

Her mouth is dry and her stomach queasy as she stares at the phone screen, wondering what he’ll think when he sees her offer. He’ll be interested, she knows that much is true, but it still feels like she’s taking a risk by putting herself out there to him so blatantly, and for the first time it occurs to her how much it would hurt if he didn’t want to cross this line between them. The thought sends her into a mental spiral that has her questioning what the hell she’s doing, and enough time passes that she’s convinced herself she’s going to have to start looking for a new roommate or at least take a spur-of-the-moment vacation to avoid Murphy for a few weeks when her phone vibrates in her hand. 

_Consider it done_

It’s simple and to the point and has her feeling so relieved she laughs, the sound of it noisy as it echoes through the empty apartment. 

* * *

  
  


By early afternoon Raven gives up on getting anything accomplished since all she can think about is what’s going to happen later when she and Murphy are alone again. At lunch she runs into Jasper and subtly manipulates him into texting with Murphy in order to find out when her roommate is planning to be back home that night. Afterwards, she calls Harper with an invitation to blow off a few classes and go shopping. The squeal that comes through the phone is loud enough to shatter glass, but Harper more than makes up for it when she helps to distract Raven for a few hours at the local mall. 

“Come on, I’m dying to know who you bought this stuff for,” Harper teases, sipping obnoxiously loud through her straw at the dregs of her iced coffee. “I didn’t think you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” Raven snaps, but one look at Harper’s crestfallen expression has her backpedaling. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. Especially because you’ve been great for coming out with me today. It’s just that I’m… not exactly sure what I’m doing and I’m feeling kind of unsettled.”

“That’s not like you.”

“I know, right?” Raven takes a seat on an empty bench, dropping the shopping bag containing a new pale blue thong and bra set and a bottle of expensive lotion that smells like palm trees and gardenia at her feet. Harper joins her, both of them staring at the water splashing in the nearby fountain. 

“Let me ask you something. When you and Monty decided to try dating, did you ever worry that it was going to mess up your friendship?”

Harper’s forehead crinkles as she considers the question. “Yes and no. I remember that I worried about it at first but then I realized pretty quickly that no matter what happened between us, Monty was too important to lose. So if things worked out or if they didn’t, I’d do whatever it took to make sure we didn’t let it ruin our friendship. But it wasn’t long before I figured out I didn’t have to worry, because it was obvious that the dating was going to work out.” 

Raven doesn’t miss the sly look Harper sends her before her friend continues with a question of her own. 

“So should I be reading into this with my own suspicions, or do you want me to pretend we never had this conversation and politely give you space, _or_ should I obnoxiously demand to know more until I wear you down and you spill the beans?”

Laughing, Raven bumps her shoulder against Harper’s. “Is there a way we can do all of the above? Part of me is dying to tell you because I could use an extra brain to help sort this all out. But it’s also so new there’s barely anything to talk about and there’s a good chance I’m getting too ahead of myself anyway. I could be worrying about things for nothing, and besides - I’m not even sure I know what I _want_ to happen.”

“Alright. I won’t push then. You know I’m here to listen when you’re ready though, okay? And for what it’s worth, I think you do know what you want.” Harper smiles mischievously and gives Raven a little wink. “Don’t think about it too hard. Sometimes it’s okay to just act on your impulses without a ten step plan.”

Raven rolls her eyes, but somehow Harper’s found a way to tell her exactly what she needs to hear. 

* * *

Based on what she found out from Jasper, she doesn’t expect Murphy to be home until after nine, which gives her plenty of time to tidy her bedroom, run her new purchases through the gentle cycle, eat a terrible microwave dinner and wash herself off again in a quick shower that she hopes will relax her. Instead, she only feels her anxiety growing as she rubs the new body lotion into the skin of her bicep. 

“Impulses,” Raven mutters under her breath. “It’s okay to act on my impulses.” 

Repeating the advice from Harper doesn’t do anything to calm her down though, not with her mind full of questions and her stomach full of butterflies. She spends almost fifteen minutes debating whether she should wear her new underwear or not, eventually realizing that Murphy doesn’t know what panties she owns unless he’s been rifling through her drawers when she’s not home. So it’s not like he’ll have a clue she just bought them today, her mind wondering if he’d like them as she fingers the satiny fabric. After she puts the set on, she stares at herself in the full-length mirror that hangs on the back of her door, attempting to see herself through Murphy’s eyes. She gives up after just a few minutes - there’s no way to know what Murphy’s thinking at any given moment, she knows _that_ much. 

Grabbing her phone, she flops down on her bed and pulls up Octavia's contact info. Her friend barely gets out a greeting before Raven interrupts her. 

“Tell me I’m hot and I’m being ridiculous.”

“First of all,” Octavia retorts, “I don’t know what you’re doing right now but you _are_ hot and you _are_ being ridiculous. Second of all, oh my god are you _nervous_ about something? Is it a _boy_?” 

“Shut up,” Raven mumbles, but it doesn’t feel terrible that Octavia knows her so well. 

“Holy shit! Who’s got the ‘I’m awesome’ Raven Reyes all tied up in knots, I wonder?” 

“I should have known you were gonna be all nosy about this,” Raven sighs. 

“Well yeah! It’s not every day that you need a pep talk, you know.”

“I do know! Which is why I’m calling you! So tell me how great I am so I can get over this ridiculousness already!”

Octavia laughs loudly but at Raven’s continued silence, her giggles begin to taper off. 

“Oh. Wow. You really _are_ nervous right now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I hate it,” Raven whines. “I can’t really tell you about it, okay, because I’m not sure if I did something smart or stupid, but it definitely has to do with a boy, and it’s definitely because I might have bitten off more than I can chew this time. Now you’ve got like ten minutes to make me feel like I can handle the mess I've made, and I really need you to knock it out of the park. So... go.”

There’s a quick intake of breath on the other end of the phone, but to her credit - and Raven’s profound relief - Octavia manages a home run. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Raven feels back in control again. She puts on a slower playlist she likes, thinking about how Octavia reminded her of some of the many instances where Raven had practically pulled miracles out of nothing - keeping her friends out of trouble or finishing major projects three minutes before the deadlines. She’d been informed that she was not only ‘disturbingly fuckable’, as Octavia had put it, but good under pressure too, and after she hung up the phone, she’d remembered the confidence that had suddenly come over her at the kitchen sink when she’d been naked for Murphy the night before. The way she’d felt powerful, knowing he couldn’t tear his eyes away, and how much it had turned her on. She just had to trust that she’d feel like that again, and then touching herself in front of him wouldn’t be difficult at all… In fact, it might actually be perfect. 

The dawning understanding to keep things simple feels right as she tucks the new panty set into her top drawer, choosing instead to be completely naked under her short peach robe. Pulling it on and tying the belt loosely around her waist, she glances at the mirror but this time doesn’t linger. She normally only wears this in private, but it’s comfortable, and once she wore it with nothing underneath to run into the kitchen when she didn’t know Murphy was home, and she’s relatively sure he was staring at the way it only just covered her ass when she turned to dart back into her room after she spotted him. So probably the silk robe is going to work just fine for him, with the added bonus that she feels pretty when she wears it. 

Not wanting to overdo things, she lights one candle and puts it on her nightstand, and then she’s struck with the question of where Murphy’s going to watch from if she’s spread out on her bed. She has an old wing-back chair shoved into the corner, a cast-off from a neighbor in the apartment building she’d grown up in, but Raven had liked the color, so she’d moved it with her to college when her mother hadn’t protested. It’s a pale, mossy green, and it’s a good spot to keep her favorite soft winter blanket folded over the cozy back. It’ll work, but it’s in the wrong part of the room for tonight’s activities, and she grins as she drags it over to the foot of the bed, pushing it right up against her dresser to face her pillows head-on. It’s blatantly obvious, but if he’s going to be looking, might as well get a _good_ look, Raven figures. 

Her gaze darts around the room in one last appraisal, ultimately landing on the bed. It looks too formal, with the lavender comforter smoothed straight to the edge of her pillows. She’s not always tidy, but she tries to make her bed every day, and as she folds down the comforter and plum-colored sheet towards the end of the bed, she’s glad she hadn’t put off her laundry this week. The faint clean scent of detergent wafts up to her nose, and along with the soft glow of the candle and the mellow music, all in all it feels like an appropriate scene for what’s about to happen. After that, there’s nothing to do but wait for Murphy to arrive, but it’s not something to dread any longer. No, anticipation is what she feels now, excitement over what he might say or how he might respond when he sees the ways she likes to touch herself. Her eyes drift shut, remembering last night and the way it felt to stand naked in front of him, imagining how Murphy’s hands would feel on her body. It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered about it, not even remotely, but depending on how tonight goes, maybe she’ll finally get to know the answer. The possibility brings a smile to her lips as she gets lost in the fantasy, unaware of how much time passes by before she’s startled by a knock on her bedroom door. 

She doesn’t have time to tense up, doesn’t even put her brace on, merely walks awkwardly over and twists the doorknob to reveal Murphy standing there, his eyes glancing down over her skimpy robe and back up so hastily she almost misses it. 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

“Yeah,” she drawls. “Didn’t you hear? I’m throwing a wild party.” 

Grinning, Murphy steps closer and she notices the stack of paper in his grip. 

“This feels like a lot more than a thousand words,” Raven guesses, feeling the heft of the pages when Murphy pushes them into her hands. 

“That’s because I finished the whole report,” Murphy explains, leaning on her door frame and getting into her personal space. “It’s due soon anyway, since I had been putting it off before your...offer. But you could also say today I felt _inspired_ to finish it.”

It should gratify her, that he was pointing out how her efforts had spurred him on, but instead she feels an odd dismay, a heavy twinge in her stomach because their fun is going to be over. So what if she’d also decided that drawing it out wasn’t going to be the path she would choose - it still stings that this… Well, whatever it is that they’re doing is coming to an end so quickly, and she can’t help the panicky thought that she’s gotten things all wrong and this is just some kind of a game for him. Her disappointment must be written on her face, because Murphy smirks knowingly at her, like he can read her mind. And damn him, it's entirely possible he _can_. 

“I’ve got a new proposition for you though.” 

At that she raises her eyebrow, her curiosity piqued and her pulse leaping in relief and excitement at his suggestive tone. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Murphy suddenly looks cagey, his calculating smile a big clue that he’s up to no good. “I’ll tell you later. But for now I think there’s the small matter of you following through on the most recent deal we made.”

Raven rolls her eyes at his phrasing. She knows full well he doesn’t actually consider it a damned ‘small matter’ that she’s going to get naked and get herself off in front of him after years of friendship, but it’s just like him to tease and taunt instead of being serious. 

“I guess you better come in then,” she replies, not taking the bait. She steps back so he can enter her bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him with a shaky hand. 

He pauses just a few steps in, making her wonder if his nerves aren’t feeling so steady either - not that she has any intentions of asking. 

“Sit,” she instructs, pointing at the chair as she hobbles past him and puts his research paper onto the top of her dresser. “And you might as well get comfortable while you’re at it.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t say a word about how she's got the room already set up, though she'd expected maybe a smug comment or two. She watches him discreetly while he’s not looking, taking in the fact that he’s wearing a faded t-shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants she’s seen thousands of times. She hadn’t heard him come home, her mind occupied, but he must have had time to at least change clothes. His feet are bare, pale against the dark navy of his pant leg, and the contrast interests her as she starts to imagine the fairness of the rest of his skin. She catches herself before too much time passes and he notices, but she keeps the image in her head as she turns away and takes a deep breath, climbing onto the bed and settling against the pillows as he sprawls back into the chair. 

_Well, it’s now or never_ , Raven thinks, trying to focus on the supportive advice Harper and Octavia had both offered. She can't come up with a single thing to say, instead biting her lip and sending up a brief prayer that whatever happens next doesn't bring either one of them lasting embarrassment. 

It’s easier to close her eyes, and she removes any guilt for it by promising herself that she’ll open them again as soon as she’s feeling braver. Relaxing her shoulders, she lifts her hand to her breast, her fingers drifting softly over the silk-covered nipple until it hardens under her touch. Her breasts have always been responsive and as she runs both hands along her sides to cup them in her palms, she pictures Murphy’s hands, larger, rougher, more unpredictable than her own. She wants to know what his hands feel like on her body, how hot they are and how they’ll make her burn. It’ll be different with him, she’s sure of it even if she doesn’t know _how_ , just that it has to be. Too much anticipation, too many buried urges, stolen glances far too numerous to even count...Years of it all building towards something that maybe neither of them wants to stop any longer - yes. There’s no way it’s not going to be different, better, and the desire surging through her grows as her fantasy extends to thoughts of his mouth replacing his fingers, licking and sucking her nipples until it’s almost too much. 

Pushing the fabric of her robe aside, she squeezes her breasts together, kneading the weighty flesh as her thumbs slowly brush back and forth over her nipples, wishing they were Murphy’s tongue. The thought makes her gasp, the damp between her thighs steadily increasing, making her restless. Her body’s taking over, inching its way towards inevitable release, and her legs spread without conscious thought as her fingers skim down to her stomach, pushing aside the loose belt of her robe until the soft material falls open at her sides. She has the fleeting thought that she’s bare to Murphy’s gaze now, but it’s like before in the kitchen when the realization felt powerful and arousing. Her hands glide over the softness of her belly and down to her thighs, repeating the movements until her skin tingles. Raven’s lashes flutter up slowly, her vision blurry with desire as she lets out a shaky breath and rubs one finger between the lips of her pussy, spreading around the slick almost lazily as she at last raises her gaze to his. 

Sinful doesn’t begin to describe the look in his eyes as he watches her touch herself. Murphy’s eyes are dark with something dangerous, animalistic, and god help her she _likes_ it, doesn’t care that she’s playing with fire that could consume her without warning. It only fuels her lust to see that he’s close to the edge, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that she can see his knuckles are white with tension. This, this is what she wanted when she sent him that daring text - hell, was it only this morning? The incredible feeling she gets when all of his attention is centered on her, when she’s his entire focus and nothing exists except the two of them together. She loves that feeling. Something tickles at the edges of her mind with this revelation, connected to her nervousness earlier and the insecurities she needed reassurances from her friends over, but it’s all elusive and wispy, and with another drag of her thumb on her swollen clit her every thought fades away, replaced by the sounds of her breathy moans and the throbbing in her core. 

She’s no stranger to what her body needs, and it’s easy to fall into a practiced rhythm of long strokes and tight circles, bringing her other hand in to caress her breasts or tease along her slit to increase her pleasure. It feels different than usual though, her skin more sensitive and each graze of her fingers taking her closer to the precipice more quickly. What she’s doing has always been something private - she’s never thought about showing off in front of someone else. But holy fuck doing it in front of Murphy, doing it _for_ Murphy...well that takes it to a whole other level, and it’s one she most definitely relishes, considering the amount of slippery fluid between her legs.

Everything is heightened because of the hot way he stares at her, the lust in his eyes urging her on as she grinds her clit with one hand and pushes two fingers into her cunt. The outline of his hard cock is evident in his sweatpants, making her feel beautiful and sexy and determined to make this good for both of them. She’s turned on imagining it’s his fingers thrusting inside her, turned on by how much she likes performing for him and how desired it makes her feel that he wants to watch, she’s turned on by everything about what they’re doing and when she notices Murphy sliding forward in the chair, as though he might move towards her the feeling sneaks up on her, overwhelming, her climax huge and fast and powerful as her back arches, her legs shaking as her toes dig into the sheets. 

Her limbs still feel weightless when she senses a dip in the mattress, and when her eyes sluggishly blink open it’s to see Murphy crawling up towards her from the end of the bed, his body rising over hers aggressively. He straddles her hips, hovering only inches above her, his blue eyes still darkened with want as his fingers wrap tightly around her wrist. He lifts her hand slowly off the bed, bringing it to his mouth as she watches curiously. His tongue curls around the base of one of her fingers, licking and sucking the taste of her come away before he moves to the next digit, all the while his bold gaze remains locked on hers. Eager, greedy sounds of approval rumble from his throat as he sucks, making her sigh. The heat between them is past arousal, beyond any kind of sexual interest that Raven’s ever experienced before, and even though her body has just been sated, her heart thuds and her breath stutters with anticipation. She feels needy, hungry. When he leans down oh-so-close, his cheek brushes against her nose at the same time she feels the hard swell of his cock along her bare thigh, and fire ignites under her skin. 

“When I get an A on this paper,” Murphy asserts in the husky voice she likes so much, his lips nip her ear and she shivers, certain he did it on purpose after the way she responded the first time, last night in the kitchen. “I’m going to pick the next reward.” 

He leans back up after he says it and there’s a confident, possessive expression on his face that only makes her wetter, damn him. And then she honestly wants to strangle him as he eases back, away from her instead of pressing closer, until he stands once again at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over her as though he’s committing her to memory. 

“It’s going to be my turn after this, Raven. And I already know exactly how I’m going to get back at you.”

Somehow he makes it sound both like a dirty promise and a terrible threat, and she wants to be indignant, wants to hurl a fiesty comeback at him as he calmly opens her door and walks out of her room, but all she can actually do is let out a helpless little whimper because she can hardly wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate your comments & kudos more than I can say, and wherever you are, I hope you're staying healthy and sane!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in my last update, this pandemic actually has me facing less time to write, since I am home with two young kiddos and now homeschooling is a thing. That's why my updates are coming more sporadically, in case anyone's wondering. 
> 
> So...this KM prompt really went out of control on me! The first chapter started out a bit over 2k, and then I doubled the next chapter at close to 5k, I think. And this final chapter is a whopper at almost 12k. For a kink meme fill! I just kept writing and writing and it all snowballed but I didn't want to take any of the scenes out, so here we are. I hope you like it! If you do, I could really use some adult interaction in the comments - I may be an introvert but I've been doing the isolation thing with my family for over 40 days now and mommy can't actually talk to the kids about MY interests! Ha! Get your mind out of the gutter - I'm talking about the show, not the smut! 😉  
> Hope you're all staying sane & healthy!

* * *

When she wakes up the next morning, last night’s encounter is all Raven can think about. She might feel resentful about how easily Murphy seemed to walk away from her naked and aroused body if she wasn’t so thoroughly convinced now how much he wanted her. Yeah, the sizeable erection in his pants was a huge clue, but it went further than that. The way he looked at her, mirroring the lust she knew was reflected in her own eyes. Or how he’d shifted just slightly in the chair as he watched what she was doing, digging his blunt nails into the armrest when her fingers dipped inside her pussy. And she hadn’t missed the stubborn clench of his jaw when he pulled away from her, like he was determined to go even though they both knew she would have welcomed his hands anywhere he wanted to put them. 

If she thought about it - and she was definitely thinking about it - the years of history between them complicated things but also combined to make her want him more. The covert glances and flirtatious touches. The innuendo that hinted at things brewing under the surface. The way they’d always gravitated towards each other even when they were in a crowd...It was impossible that Murphy hadn’t also come to the conclusion that sex was inevitable in their relationship. No, it wasn’t a question of whether he wanted her even though he _had_ left her needy and aching after her little show the night before. She wasn’t going to be worried about whether she was alone in being interested in crossing the line any longer, and she could admit that it was probably only her own insecurities that had made her second-guess his attraction to begin with. 

It was just that things got so complicated after she’d had time to think about what she’d done; what she still wanted to do. Not that she regretted any of it, but it was like she’d told Harper - she wasn’t exactly sure _what_ she was doing, only knew she wanted to keep going. Maybe it would cause a problem in their friendship, she didn’t know, but even that possibility couldn’t stop her from heading down this path. Her mind was made up about that no matter where her imagination told her the cards might fall when this reached its ultimate conclusion. And after this last encounter, she was more certain than ever that it _would_ end up with them having sex. 

A sudden realization about it all hits her in the middle of her first class, sending her jerking upright in surprise and knocking her notebook to the floor with a crash as the other students turn to look at her strangely until she glares back and scares them off. Another thing last night had shown her was that Murphy had turned her naughty little game into daring rounds of sexual chicken - a battle of wills on who would give in first.

She doesn’t hate it, honestly. It feels like _them,_ as strange as that is. Dancing around the issue and prolonging the wait was frustrating, sure, but she’d also never been more turned on in her life since she had impulsively made that first sexual offer. But the worst part of it was… Raven didn’t think she would have been able to walk away if things had been reversed, if _he_ was the one who had been naked and sweaty and sprawled out just waiting for her to take what she wanted. It would have been too easy, too tempting and fuck but Murphy had pulled it off and she both respects him for it and hates that he could resist her. 

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the deck is still stacked in his favor because she has no idea what’s going to happen next, what kind of ‘revenge’ he’s thinking about. But it’s not a far reach to expect that it’s going to drive her _crazy_ , which is probably exactly his plan considering he knows how to push her buttons better than anyone else ever has. 

* * *

The anticipation is _killing_ her. 

Murphy licked the come off her fingers three days ago, and ever since she’s been distracted and impatient and so sexually frustrated she can barely sit still. He’s toying with her, waiting to see if she’ll crack, and it frustrates the hell out of her that he seems so calm, acting like nothing has changed between them anytime they’re together in their apartment. It’s almost impossible to put up with even though she’s sure - hopes! - he’s got to be feeling the strain too, and no matter how many times she gets herself off in the privacy of her room, it’s just not satisfying. Not the way she knows it could be, if she just gives in and admits she can’t wait any more. 

The only thing that’s been able to stop her from throwing herself at him so far is picturing the smug look on his face when she concedes, but she’s genuinely unsure how much longer she can last despite how much she hates to lose. Avoidance has become her primary strategy, but being alone in her room reminds her of Murphy now, and who ever heard of being turned on by a damned _chair_ , for pete’s sake? Yet that’s exactly where her brain goes, every time she catches a glimpse of it. She imagines him sitting in it, the look on his face as she straddles his lap...

“Helloooo, hey - I said you don’t have plans, right? Are you even listening?”

The annoyed voice coming through the phone breaks her out of her daze, and Raven tears her eyes away from the incriminating piece of furniture that’s been pushed back into its proper corner. God, there’s something wrong with her but if she doesn’t get to have sex with Murphy in that chair and _soon_ , she might actually explode. 

“Sorry, sorry, no, I heard you,” Raven lies, forcing her attention back to the call she was in the middle of. “Plans. You’re asking about plans.”

“What I was asking is if you had plans for _Friday_ ,” Octavia grumbles. “I’m trying to get the group together to celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“You’d know if you were paying attention to this phone call! Hey, is this about that boy you were freaking out over? Because I’ve been biting my tongue about it, but I’m dying to know what happened. And really you owe me for talking you down.”

Raven groans. Octavia has never been one to let things go. 

“Yeah, you totally talked me down, and I will even admit I _was_ freaking out. So thank you for that. The situation going on at the time did get...handled, I guess, but I don’t even know what’s going to happen next. And I’ve kind of figured out that whatever this mess is, it’s important to me, so you’re not allowed to tease.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line and then Raven can practically hear the gleeful note of accusation in Octavia’s voice. 

“Holy shit, are you in _love_? Who is it? Oh my god, tell me!”

“What? No!” Raven shrieks. “Why would you - that is _not_ what I said!” 

Her stomach churns with anxiety. Why would Octavia jump to such a conclusion?

“Oh, please,” Octavia scoffs. “You admitting some _thing_ or some _one_ is important to you is practically your version of a love confession, don’t even pretend.”

“I am not pretending,” Raven snaps, indignant. “And I am not in love with anyone.” She feels out of breath, her room is too warm, and her fingers curl into her blanket dangerously. 

“Fine, jeez! It’s not a bad thing, you know. But since you clearly don’t want to talk about it, I’ll change the subject. So Friday - dress to impress because we’re all going somewhere _nice_ for a change, and they even have fancy tablecloths and napkins on all the tables…” 

Octavia babbles on, unoffended, talking about the club atmosphere and the music she wants to hear, but Raven can’t focus on the conversation. 

How did _love_ get brought into this? 

That’s not what’s happening between her and Murphy. They’re friends, really good friends, and yeah they’re about a half-inch from sleeping together but that doesn’t mean she’s _in love_ with him. Octavia likes to be dramatic, that’s all. Murphy’s important to her, true, and definitely someone she likes being around. They live in the same apartment, for god's sake! Of course she likes being around him. She absolutely wants to have sex with him, can hardly stand to wait any longer honestly, but that attraction has been there since the beginning even if they’re only now starting to act on it. He’s by far the best roommate she’s ever had, and alright, she can be logical about it. She does love him, just like she loves her other friends too. It’s almost impossible for her to imagine her life without Murphy in it. And so what if she’d probably choose him to hang out with over and above anyone else? Just because she enjoys his company the most doesn’t mean she’s in love with him.

Does it?

* * *

When she first hears her phone buzz with a text alert on Friday morning, she doesn’t give it much thought. Her eyes are blurry from lack of sleep ever since that stupid phone call with Octavia, and the bathroom is foggy from shower steam anyway. She swipes a soapy hand over the phone to see what it says but it’s no use trying to make it out. It’s not until after she’s wrapped in a towel and perched on the end of her bed massaging her leg that she remembers to take another look, and once she does, she almost wishes she hadn’t. 

_I told you I’d get an A_

_Now it’s my turn_

_Wear a short skirt tonight_

_and skimpy underwear_

Her throat goes dry at the instructions, and the knowledge that he’s finally making his move has her skin erupting in goosebumps. Raven squirms restlessly, abrupt desire rushing through her, damn it, and she tosses the phone on the bed in frustration. Shit, all it’s taking now is some bossy words on a screen and she’s soaked. There’s no way she’s going to be able to withstand whatever he’s plotting, especially when she’s spent the last however-many-sleepless-hours slowly realizing her feelings are a lot more complicated than she’s ever considered. Once the suggestion of love entered the realm of possibility in her brain, she hasn’t been able to shake it back out again no matter how hard she’s tried, and oh she’s tried. Being utterly unaware that she’s fallen in love with one of her best friends has to be the stupidest thing that’s ever happened to her, and she still can’t believe she didn’t see it even when all the signs were there. 

Hindsight being what it was, it should have been a huge clue that she’d disliked every girl he’d ever dated. She found flaws in each of them, always writing them off as not good enough. She’d pretended reasonably well, pasting a smile on her face when they showed up and never offering advice first, but the times that Murphy had asked what she thought? She hadn’t exactly held back with her opinion, and not long after, they’d be gone. And though it was harder to identify, there had definitely been a big turning point when the prospect of going out for drinks with a group of their friends wasn’t nearly as appealing to her as staying in while Murphy made dinner and she picked a movie they could either make fun of or dissect together afterwards. When had flopping across the couch in her pajamas with her roommate turned into the very best way to spend a weekend? She suspects it happened a lot earlier than she might like to recognize. 

Well, she might be an idiot, and she might not be able to win whatever this latest round of sexual daring is going to bring, but that doesn’t mean she’s going down without a fight. She lays back on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she wonders just what Murphy has in mind. Whatever it is, there’s no escaping him now. Her entire body feels like a tightly strung bundle of nerves that could ignite at any minute, but all in all she supposes being this turned on isn’t a bad way to go, even if each hour until she sees him is going to drag by painfully until she learns what he has up his sleeve. Blindly, she reaches over and grabs for her phone. No point keeping him waiting, especially when she bought them to wear for him anyway. 

_They’ll be light blue, in case you’re wondering_

* * *

The music in the club is loud, hammering up through the floor and into the soles of her feet through her shoes. It’s not unpleasant, just different from the casual atmosphere their group ordinarily chooses, and Raven thinks she could get used to this kind of outing. Octavia was right - it _is_ nicer than their usual hangouts, lots of mood lighting and tablecloths that drape to the floor in the smattering of large private tables that dominate the back of the space. Octavia had reserved a long, U-shaped booth with a padded bench on one side of the table and impressive looking chairs on the other, with a view that overlooks the dance floor. She’s glad she dressed up for the evening, wearing a black short skirt like Murphy demanded and an emerald green sleeveless silk top with black lace along the deep V of her cleavage. Considering she rarely wears a skirt, the outfit combined with the light blue bra and thong set have her feeling almost prepared for whatever Murphy has planned, like she’s put on some sort of armor that lends her courage. 

Not long after Raven arrives, she figures out that they’re celebrating Niylah’s acceptance into a prestigious design program overseas at the beginning of next year. She gets to talk about it for a little while with Octavia and Niylah since she shows up early, impatient for the evening - and what surprises it might hold - to start. 

“Aren’t you going to miss each other?” Raven has to raise her voice to be heard over the heavy thump of the dance mixes the DJ has been churning out. There’s a large crowd writhing and shaking to the beat on the dance floor, and even around some of the smaller tables closer to the action, contributing to the club’s dramatic atmosphere. 

Niylah looks at Octavia with adoration in her eyes as she answers, and the gentleness of it sends a pang of unexpected longing to Raven’s chest. 

“Of course we’ll miss each other. But what we have is strong enough to weather time apart, and anyway, the things in life we most value are the things we work the hardest for, aren’t they? Our relationship is important to both of us, so we’ll put the work in.”

Her words are reminiscent of Harper’s advice from a few days ago, utterly confident that the bond they shared would be enough to keep them from imploding no matter what happens, making Raven wonder if what she and Murphy have is that solid. She hopes so. Him not being in love with her would hurt like hell, but she could handle it. Eventually, anyway. Probably. But them not being friends simply isn’t an option. 

* * *

The party is practically in full swing a half hour later, but Murphy is nowhere to be seen. Likely on purpose and designed to make her sweat because that’s exactly the kind of move he’d pull. She learns he’s getting a ride with Bellamy, so she keeps her eyes open for both of them as she scans the club, trying to act as casual as possible considering on the inside she’s a ball of nerves. At the bar she runs into a few people from her classes, chatting while she gets her Chardonnay, then catches up with Clarke and the art show she’s been working on while she sips her wine. She’s finally returned to the booth - now with her second glass - when her purse buzzes on the table. Her phone has been blowing up most of the night with updates from her friends - who’s running late, someone asking if anyone wants a drink while they’re at the bar, hell Harper had even sent a photo of the expensive hand soap in the ladies room, practically writing poetry about how great it smelled and wondering if anyone had a container to use so she could take some. So she’s expecting something similar when she pulls out her phone, only to have her stomach flip like she’s just gone down the steepest drop on a rollercoaster when she reads Murphy’s text. 

_Go to the bathroom and take off your panties_

Raven can’t take her eyes off the screen, a hot flush washing over her as she reads the line over and over again. Her mouth is dry and she shifts uncomfortably on the padded seat, uncertain. What he wants her to do… fuck. She wants to. Definitely. Abso-fucking-lutely-positively wants to, if she’s being honest. But she’s also feeling slightly out of her element wearing a skirt, and to be naked underneath it? Well, not fully naked, since she has on black thigh-high stockings, but does that make it better or worse? Oh god. He’s not messing around. She looks up slowly from her phone, wondering if he’s watching and can see her reaction. Taking a small sip of her wine, she discreetly flicks her gaze around the huge space, but if he’s here, she doesn’t find him. 

It would be exciting to know that only the two of them were in on the secret that she was practically naked under her skirt - and in such a crowded place, too. Damn it. He’s absolutely got her cornered because if she doesn’t go through with it he’s always going to be able to tease her about chickening out on his turn, after he'd never hesitated when she'd called the shots. Plus… she wants to. Wants to see the heat in his eyes when she does what he says, wants to know what it feels like to walk through the crowd of people with no panties on. It’s shocking, actually - how much she wants this when she’s never considered it before. This reckless scenario wouldn’t have been something she would have been into with any of her past sexual partners, but she can admit she’s got a serious kink for Murphy seeing her naked. Or in this case, maybe not seeing but _knowing_ about it. 

Convinced he’s probably watching, she doesn’t bother to text him back, simply takes another sip of her wine and makes small talk with Echo for a few minutes before asking her to get up so Raven can leave the booth. Their table is crowded now, everyone drinking and talking boisterously, and on the way to the ladies room Raven finally spots Bellamy, so Murphy can’t be far behind, her heartbeat kicking up in anticipation. It’s only when she locks the stall behind her that she feels a bristle of hesitation. She was so preoccupied thinking about what she was about to do and what it was going to feel like and what Murphy was going to do about it that she left her purse on the table, so she doesn’t even have anywhere to hide her panties. Balancing carefully, she steps gingerly out of them anyway, glad that she chose a pair that are hardly more than a scrap of silk so she can ball them up in her fist and pray no one notices. 

Stepping out of the stall, she stops in front of the ornate, floor to ceiling mirror. She looks...mostly normal, but her face is hot with both embarrassment and arousal, and she worries that anyone who sees her will know right away what she’s up to. Points to Murphy on this one. If he’s trying to pay her back for the anticipation she made him go through, then it’s definitely working. 

Walking through the club back to the booth is both how she imagined it and completely different. She feels powerful, yes, and sexy too, but also like there’s a spotlight on her that makes her want to get it over with as quickly as possible. It’s only when she gets closer to the table and her eyes land on Murphy that she deliberately draws it out, craving the way his undivided attention makes her feel. And he gives it to her, staring at her as she approaches, a knowing smirk on his face when he sees her clenched fingers wrapped around the tiny panties he’d wanted her to wear. 

It’s ridiculous the way her mouth waters at the sight of him. The last few days have been awful as far as sexual tension goes, but also she’s missed him since she’s spent so much time alone in her room, trying to avoid him. And now she knows she’s in love with him, which only makes the butterflies worse. He’s dressed for the ambiance of the club, in dark gray pants and a black dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up because he never stays formal for long. His hair has been tamed for a change too, but it only makes her wish she could run her hands through it and mess it up. Shit. They haven’t even spoken and she’s barely holding on to her control already. If she’d known what she was going to be starting when she made that first offer to get him to do his paper… No, she can’t lie to herself. She doesn’t regret that offer in the least, and she’s _absolutely_ not regretting doing as he told her either, not when every part of her body starts to burn and tingle just from the way his eyes roam over her. ‘In over her head’ - that’s the saying that comes to mind as their eyes lock. 

He’s sitting at one end of the booth, near where she’d left her wine and purse, and he stands as she gets closer, moving only a step away so she’ll have to brush against him in order to slide in. Okay. She can handle this. She just has to keep her face from reacting to his touch. Which is a lot harder to do when her ass grazes over his thighs and she’s immediately reminded she’s not wearing panties and just the thought sends a rush of slick straight to her cunt. Fuck. Maybe she can’t do this. Not when she’s already so wet she’s probably going to leave a spot on the seat. 

But when she gets past him, Murphy touches her elbow and prevents her from sitting right away, instead subtly gesturing to the folded cloth napkin next to her wine glass. Apparently her theory might be correct. Great. She's in love with a mind reader. Still, she takes the hint and as discreetly as possible, lays it on the seat before she sits down, crushed between Echo and Murphy. Who sneakily crowds himself along her right side until he can bend his head at just the right angle, whispering very suggestively into her ear as she works hard not to react. 

“Put your panties in my pocket.”

Oh she’s in so much trouble. Could a person actually die from too much lust? Maybe that explains all the cases of spontaneous human combustion... Fuck, it’s unfair he gets to use that husky voice on her when she can’t even put three syllables together in response, but at least she can still operate her body - if not her mind - and her hand sweeps across the bench cushion between them without hesitation. She refuses to look at him while she rubs her fingers along the side of his pants looking for the pocket, sure that if she does, the love confession on the tip of her tongue will spill out of her uncontrollably. 

It doesn’t take long to find the opening on the seam though, and a quick glance around the table tells her that no one’s watching them curiously. Slipping the panties inside proves to be a little tougher because touching him even with fabric between them is addictive, her fingertips ablaze with little prickles of sensation from being so close. It gets even better when his hand settles over the outside of his pants, trapping hers underneath and still inside his pocket. 

Raven risks a quick glance. He seems unaware such a simple touch has her feeling overheated, his free hand idly picking up his rocks glass to take a drink, his attention out on the dance floor instead of on her like she wants. Damn him. 

She’s beginning to think she’s going to have to take things into her own hands, or at least get involved with the exuberant conversation around them so they don’t appear antisocial, but as soon as she turns her head towards Echo, he squeezes her hand and speaks once her eyes are back on him. 

“I get to pick what I want, right?”

At first she doesn’t know what he means. Comprehension dawns when his thumb strokes a circle on the back of her hand like some sort of private message, and she swallows thickly and nods when she realizes. Getting her panties off was definitely only a part of the game he had planned. 

“Are you going to play no matter what?”

Now he turns to look at her and it’s the same glint in his eyes from her bedroom, the predatory feeling like he might pounce. As if she’d ever turn _this_ down. 

“I’m going to play.” She’s proud that her voice doesn’t waver when she answers, but there’s a serious chance she might come just from the anticipation of it all. 

Murphy smiles in a dangerous way as he flicks his eyes back over the dance floor again. 

“Give it another minute,” he tells her, starting up the movement of his thumb again. 

She figures her odds are 50-50 on whether she’ll make it that long. 

* * *

“Say your leg is bothering you.” Murphy leans in, his cryptic words only loud enough for her own ears over the pulsating beat of the new song that’s starting to blast from the speakers, and while he doesn’t make sense, she feels a surge of excitement race through her, knowing _something_ is about to happen. And it does, when he lifts his hand off of hers, gently tugging her fingers out of his pocket while making sure that the light blue panties stay securely inside. 

“What are you-” she doesn’t get the rest of the question out due to a shrill scream from Octavia, who proceeds to jump up from her spot farther down the table and shove everyone in her way out of their seats and towards the dance floor. 

“Oh my god! I love this song! Get your asses out there already!” 

Octavia doesn’t spare a backwards glance, but Harper does as everyone rushes off to dance, her eyebrow lifted in inquiry when Raven doesn’t make a move to follow the group. Raven’s eyes dart quickly to Murphy, but he’s deliberately focusing on his glass of fancy Scotch, so she grins distractedly at Harper and waves her off. 

“My leg is sore. I’ll join you guys later.”

“Okay,” Harper nods, and the knowing smile on her face tells Raven that Harper knows _exactly_ who Raven bought the bra and panty set for, but she doesn’t have time to laugh over it because just like that she’s alone with Murphy, intimately aware of his thigh crowding hers. She can feel the slight lump of her panties pressed against her now, and a quick swallow of her wine does nothing to calm her down. 

It’s not that she _wants_ to be dancing, so she’s not bothered that he stopped her from joining the rest of their friends. Knowing the light blue thong would be part of her outfit, she’d chosen a skirt that was short but not overly so, expecting that she’d just have to be careful not to flash anyone. But dancing without panties at all? No, it wasn’t anyone else’s business, and she certainly wasn’t interested in advertising her bareness by showing off her moves and giving someone an eye-full if her skirt lifted. She sneaks another look at Murphy. It wasn’t so much the being secretly naked in public that was turning her on - it was being naked in public because he told her to do it and because he knew about it too. _That_ was the part that was making her so hot and left her squeezing her thighs together in nervous excitement. 

She waits for Murphy’s next move eagerly, struggling to keep her expression neutral. Her pulse only heightens when he uses his weight to nudge her further down along the bench, away from the end he was sitting on and more towards the center. She’s impatient, feeling like it’s been a hundred years since he sent her that text this morning telling her what to wear. He takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes twinkling with amusement as they look her over - probably because he knows she’s waiting on pins and needles, damn it. 

“If you need to, say I had to take a phone call.”

Confusion at yet another strange instruction has Raven wrinkling her brow, but before she can demand any answers, Murphy unexpectedly reaches for another of the large fabric napkins on the table, making a show of deliberately dropping it, and it disappears under the draping hem of the tablecloth. 

“Guess I better pick that up.” 

The mischievous expression on his face ought to warn her, but she’s entirely unprepared as Murphy pushes up the tablecloth and ducks under it, being careful to fluff the material around him afterwards so that no one can see him. 

“What are you _doing_?” Raven grumbles, her hands ineffectively trying to grab for him through the voluminous fabric and haul him back up to the seat. “It’s probably filthy down there!”

The sound of low laughter filters up to her, Murphy’s voice muffled but still decipherable. “I knew you’d say that.”

And then warm hands grasp her knees, nudging them apart as they pull her closer to the edge of the table, her body sliding forward easily with the help of the napkin she’s sitting on, the tablecloth bunching up along her waist and concealing her lower half. She can barely think because it all happens so fast, but there’s no mistaking the soft kiss that lands high on her inner thigh above her stockings - god she’d swear it was affectionate if she had to describe it, certain that Murphy’s lips were smiling when he did it - but there’s barely a moment to consider what that could mean, because then his wicked, wet tongue darts straight to her clit, and her body jolts in response like she’s been touched by a live wire. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” she groans, incapable of caring who might hear as her hand smacks down onto the table in utter bliss. There’s a brief, bright burst of clarity that flashes through her brain as she recognizes that this is actually _real_ , not some creative fantasy she’s conjured up, and the knowledge that Murphy’s doing this to her in the middle of the crowded club is almost too overwhelming to accept. His hands are finally on her, and they’re just as hot and rough and capable as she’d hoped, but it’s even better than she'd pictured, because there’s no way she could have imagined just how _good_ they feel on the bare skin of her thighs; how desperate for more more more they make her. 

She tilts her hips up, greedy, and all thoughts slip away in an instant, gone as soon as Murphy opens his mouth wider, pressing her thighs open further around his head as his tongue licks and sucks, tasting her everywhere. There’s no way he could miss how slick she already was, turned on and hyper-sensitive with eagerness about what he was going to do to her, and the added heat curling deep in her belly now makes her dizzy with lust, frantic for what she knows he can give her. 

The hammering beat of the music seems to match the throbbing of her cunt, and she leans back until her shoulders hit the padded wall behind her, allowing him greater access. She can feel his hunger as she grows wetter and increasingly aroused, the dazzling lights of the club getting hazier behind her eyelids, her thighs quivering and shaking with the fierce suction of his mouth. Giving in to her desire to touch him, she sneaks a hand under the folds of the tablecloth until her fingers graze the soft skin at the nape of his neck. He rewards her with a wild flick of his tongue and it’s exactly what she needs to set her off, every part of her tightening before shuddering into euphoric release, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip hard in order to keep from shouting. 

Her orgasm is intense, spectacularly so, and it’s only when she recognizes that the rhythm of the music has changed that she scrambles to sit upright, worried that their friends might return to the table. Murphy’s cheek is resting against the lace top of her stocking, breathing her in, and she tries to shove down the fluttering in her chest with just how badly she wants it to be a sign that he’s interested in something other than the dangerous game they’re playing. Loosening the tight grip she has on his hair, she intends to pull her hand away but he stops her, catching her fingers between his with a little squeeze. The gesture brings the same pang of longing she felt when Niylah looked at Octavia earlier, and along with it comes the sudden determination to yank him up next to her so she can channel her feelings into kissing him until he understands that this all means so much more to her than just sex. 

About to do exactly that, she’s unprepared for the sudden intrusion of a cheery voice and a flurry of movement on her right as Jasper slides into the booth. 

“Hey! What happened, did Murphy ditch you and leave you all alone?”

“Jesus, you scared me!” 

“Sorry. Just thought you might want some company and I got thirsty from dancing.” 

Jasper lifts up his beer bottle in a mock salute, and even though she’s freaking out from the unwelcome interruption and his terrible timing, being rude to Jasper is akin to kicking a puppy, and she can’t bring herself to do it even as she feels a rumble of repressed laughter from where Murphy’s body rests against hers under the table. 

“No, no, it’s okay, thanks.” Her mind races to find a way to get him to leave, already dreading the possibility of everyone coming back to the table and discovering what Murphy just did to her. God, they’d all tease and torture them both mercilessly, and while there might be some embarrassment over it, the bigger problem is that she needs to know what this even _is_ before the rest of the group finds out. Murphy laughing or making jokes about it along with everyone else would be too much to bear. 

“So where’d he go?”

“What?” Shit. She needs to focus. “Oh, Murphy. Um...he had to take a phone call.” 

Murphy’s ridiculous instructions actually make sense to her now, that clever little cockroach. As if he would know she’d be incapable of coming up with an excuse on her own. Well, yeah, because he made her come so damn hard! And as soon as she thinks it, said devil tugs her hand farther under the table, pressing it against his chest as his teeth sink into the sensitive skin of her upper thigh. 

“Mmph,” Raven gasps, squirming against the seat with the pleasure-pain of it. If he means to leave a mark, that’s definitely going to do it. Fuck, she wants him to have done it on purpose. Wants him to feel possessive. 

Jasper looks worried, so Raven offers him a weak grin as she struggles to remain in control while Murphy nibbles a meandering path towards her knee, kissing right over the silky material of her stockings. He's really good at distracting her. But she really, really wants Jasper to leave, so she takes a deep breath and soldiers on. 

“I forgot to tell you, but I saw that girl Maya you like when I went to the bar for my wine earlier. I bet she’s still here somewhere.” Jasper’s had a crush on her for months now, and the way he perks up when she mentions Maya’s name tells her she’s picked the perfect diversion. “You should ask her to dance.”

“Yeah?” Jasper guzzles the rest of his beer, looking eager. “You okay here then?”

The sweet concern he has for her almost makes her feel bad for trying to get rid of him. Almost. 

“Actually, I think I might head home early. My leg is acting up. Can you let everyone know I’ll see them later?”

Jasper is already out of his seat, anxious to go find Maya. “Sure, I’ll tell ‘em. You’re good to drive, right?”

Raven points to her almost full wine glass before taking a small sip. “Didn’t even finish my second Chardonnay.” 

A tiny part of her wants to down it, giving herself a little extra courage, but more importantly she wants to be clear-headed when she talks to Murphy. And they’re definitely talking tonight. One way or another, she can’t spend any more time wondering. 

“See ya then!” 

She watches as Jasper practically skips away, her eyes darting to the dance floor to make sure everyone else is still occupied before leaning down and feeling for Murphy’s collar with her free hand, dragging him up towards her. 

He looks quite pleased with himself as he settles onto the cushion next to her, and Raven hopes the lighting in the club helps to hide the blush that heats her cheeks when his eyes meet hers. He’s too good at getting the upper hand each time they’ve done, well, _whatever this is_ , and she knows she’d better act fast if she wants to take the lead. 

“You got a ride here with Bellamy, right? Text him and say you’re leaving early with me.”

If anything, his expression only gets more smug. And god help her, when he winks at her and arrogantly mutters “Yes, ma’am” in response, she falls a little more in love. 

* * *

The air is chilly as they exit the club, and Raven is especially aware of how it feels on her bare ass as they walk through the parking lot on the way to her Jeep. The foggy night sky lends itself to the surreal aura the evening has had so far, a few stolen glances at Murphy giving nothing away regarding his emotions, while hers feel like they might burst right out of her. She’s concentrating on how exactly she’s going to do this, what she might say, and it’s habit that takes over when they reach the passenger side door, her hand fumbling in her purse for her keys. 

Black and sturdy, the older model Jeep is her baby. She’s put her blood, sweat and tears into keeping it running, but with her school hours this year, she hasn’t gotten around to fixing the glitch on the inside of the driver’s door that’s been preventing her from unlocking the door properly. The wiring's probably shorting. As annoying as it is, she’s been opening the passenger side and climbing over the seats for a couple months now in order to drive, and when she pulls the door open to do just that, Murphy sneaks into the seat before she can get in. 

“Thank you, that’s very considerate,” he tells her, and she’s genuinely not sure if he’s fucking with her or not. 

“Maybe you forgot, but I have to get in on this side too since the driver’s door isn’t working right.”

“I didn’t forget.” 

So he _was_ fucking with her then, his smartass tone now apparent as he practically leers at her. Great. Like she needs to be any more turned on tonight. Besides, it’s cold. 

“What, you want me to crawl across your lap so you can cop a feel or something?”

“I’m just taking advantage of the situation that’s been presented to me,” Murphy grins. “And I know your ass is cold, so quit dawdling and let me warm it up.”

That’s new. Being obvious about what they’re doing outside of the game. It catches her off-guard and she hesitates for a few seconds until Murphy holds out his hand, his eyes staring into hers like he’s looking for something. She puts her hand in his without conscious thought, thrilling little sparks of pleasure rippling through her at the contact, and though her brace makes things somewhat awkward, she ends up straddling his lap while he pulls the door shut against the night breeze. 

It feels harder to breathe this close, but it’s the exciting kind of stressful that gets her heart pounding and stomach somersaulting. His hands settle on her hips, and she wants to believe it’s because he doesn’t want her to go anywhere, but that’s the farthest thing from her mind anyway. She licks her lips nervously, her own hands resting lightly against his chest. 

“That was a risky move you pulled in there.” 

Not that she has any regrets whatsoever about it, but she has to say _something_ , because they’re alone and it’s so quiet and dark and he smells so good and she’s naked under her skirt and sitting on his lap and if she doesn’t break the tension she might actually shatter. 

“Was it?” he murmurs, his thumbs circling along her hip bones, and the barely-there touch is enough to drive her mad. 

“Anyone could have caught us.”

“Nah. I had a pretty good plan in place.”

“Oh really,” Raven gasps when he hits the bare skin above the waistband of her skirt. “And what was the plan, exactly?”

“I bribed the DJ to play Octavia’s favorite dance song, immediately followed by Clarke’s. I knew that would keep ‘em all busy, and I just had to pay enough attention to be out from under the table before the second song ended. You think it was a coincidence I had a napkin for you to sit on and one for me to kneel on? You know Octavia’s been going on and on about how we all aren’t sophisticated enough and we need to get out to a place with some actual culture for ages now. She called me when she booked this party to brag about the fancy booths and long tablecloths, and she told me I better make sure you and I showed up tonight or she’d be pissed. Fit perfectly into what I wanted, not that she knew it.”

She’s more impressed than she expected. It _was_ a pretty good plan. And it means he spent time thinking about it. About _her_. 

“Except Jasper almost ruined things. Bet you weren’t planning on that.”

“Ah, Jasper’s always the wild card. Gotta expect he’ll find a way to complicate things every time.” 

His hands slide down and curve around the cool skin of her ass, pulling her tighter against the hard bulge between his legs as his lips brush over her ear, her eyes closing as a full-body shiver courses through her 

“Worked out though,” Murphy growls, “since I made you come before the first song was even over.” 

Oh god. The reminder of it, the way he says it so boastfully while he’s got her pinned against his cock, his fingers kneading her ass - she can feel the wet spot she’s making on his gray pants, growing with every wiggle of her hips as she strains closer. Fuck he feels so good. 

Any possibility of further conversation flies out the window when Murphy’s hand tangles in the hair at the back of her head and his mouth captures hers. The kiss doesn’t disappoint - no tentative meeting of the mouths for them. No, this is exactly the kind of kiss between two people who have wondered what it would be like to kiss each other for years, both of them throwing themselves into it with abandon, finally giving in to their urges. Everything about it is hot and sexy and the closest thing she’s ever had to perfect in her life. She tastes herself on his tongue and sucks harder, taking delight in the groan it wrenches from him. She can’t get close enough, would crawl right inside him if she could, and everywhere his hands touch sets off a hundred infernos underneath her skin. It’s too much and yet not enough and it feels like she’s a different person when they break apart, both of them panting harshly as they try to catch their breath. 

Murphy keeps his hand taut in her hair, tilting her head so he can rest his forehead against her temple, and she’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that thumps so loudly against her breast. Eventually he speaks, his voice roughened with lust, and the sound of it in the intimate, humid darkness of the car sends another rush of desire through her. 

“Why’d you start this, Raven? What changed your mind after years of us ignoring it?”

She sighs softly, unsure how to answer. She hadn’t known she was in love with him at the start, had only felt an urge and gone with it - it was only later that she realized just what he meant to her. 

“The day I made that first offer, I was being impulsive. I hadn’t really made a conscious decision that we should cross the line, but thinking about it all afterwards… I think maybe I didn’t want to tell myself no any more.”

His fingers flex in her hair and where his other hand is splayed on her lower back, and he turns her head until he’s staring down at her intently. She swallows nervously under the intensity of his gaze but she doesn’t look away, the obvious arousal pressing insistently against her thigh strangely giving her courage to continue. 

“I’m annoyed at you, you know.” Her words are reproachful but she takes the sting out of them by scratching lightly along the back of his neck. Murphy stretches into her touch like a cat, his eyes closing so he misses her satisfied smile. 

“Why?”

“Because you spent the last couple of days walking around our apartment like nothing happened, and it’s been driving me crazy.”

“Are you kidding?” Murphy denies. “I’ve been going insane trying to figure out what you’re up to!”

“Really?” Raven asks, almost giddy over how wrong she might have been. “Well, you weren’t acting like it!”

“Damn, Raven. What did you want me to do? I had no idea why everything suddenly changed. You started this and I figured, at least if you were the one initiating it, then it was okay because that meant you _wanted_ to and you weren’t regretting it if you kept going. You have no idea how fucking relieved I was when you went to the bathroom and took your panties off tonight. I wasn’t sure if you had started to think this had all been a bad idea.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I was feeling a little nervous when I read your text, but I wanted to do it. I’ve wanted to do _all_ of it. If anything, I’ve been thinking we should have done this sooner.”

Oh, that confession gets her a rough thrust of his hips that has her seeing stars. Fuck, she hopes it means he’s not going to be upset that she’s got all these massive feelings that could complicate everything. 

“I’ve been thinking we should be doing this since you first walked into that dive bar that Bellamy introduced us in. I thought I was making a stupid mistake agreeing to be your roommate since I wanted to get you into my bed right from the start. I did it anyway though. But then we started spending time together, and we got along and had fun and I liked you. And I thought sex would probably ruin what we had. So I tried to stop thinking about you like that.”

“Did it work?” Oh, she wants him to say it didn’t work. Please say it didn't work. She’d never fully put the _potential_ of them out of her own head. Just managed to ignore it for chunks at a time. And then pushed it down sometimes too. 

“Fuck no. I suck at not thinking about you like that. But I don’t want you to regret any of this.”

There it is again, that now-familiar ache in her chest that seems to be getting bigger by the minute. 

“I’m not going to regret any of it. But I have to tell you something else.” 

She takes a deep breath even though she’s not as afraid as she thought she’d be, especially when his arms are around her like this. It’s not even hard to look Murphy in the eye as she opens up to him, because she wants him to see that she means everything she’s about to say. 

“I may have started this on an impulse, but as we kept upping the stakes I couldn’t stop thinking about what it all meant. And I wasn’t sure what you thought about it, but it was never just a game to me, not even in the beginning when I didn’t know _what_ we were doing. It’s actually a little embarrassing that it took me so long to unravel it because everything seems so obvious to me now. Like crazy obvious. Anyway, it’s okay if it’s not the same for you. We’ll figure it out, like we always do. But I want you to know that I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a while.”

Okay, maybe she’s a little afraid now. A lot afraid. The words were easy to say because they were the truth but she forgot about the wait between when she stopped talking and he was supposed to start, and this part feels _excruciating._ Growing worse by the second, honestly, god emotions are just not her _thing_ , and her brain immediately starts planning another abrupt vacation she can go on tomorrow in order to live down the discomfort of it all, but then his hands are on either side of her face, his touch soft but demanding her attention. 

“Hey.”

Damn. His voice is especially kind, which could mean he’s about to break her heart as gently as possible. Alright, she can take it. And she won’t even cry either. At least until she’s in the privacy of her shower. No, wait, she’ll go to Harper since she’ll know _who_ Raven is crying over but she’ll still keep it a secret so no one else has to know how mortified she is. Harper will give her a hug and ice cream and sympathy and they’ll come up with a new plan. 

“Raven. Stop thinking and look at me.” 

This time Murphy sounds amused, and her eyes flick back to his in surprise. He doesn’t look upset. Or like he’s about to break her heart. 

“I think ‘crazy obvious’ is a good way to describe it. Like how it’s hard for me to believe it’s not crazy obvious to you that I’m in love with you right back.”

Huh. This is...not what she was expecting. Crap she doesn’t know what to say, hasn’t thought this far ahead. 

“When did _that_ happen?” 

The question slips out of her mouth without thought, and she can’t quite wrap her mind around what Murphy just said, but it feels important for her to know the answer. 

“Hard to say exactly,” Murphy grins. “But it was definitely before you took all your clothes off and washed the dishes naked, pretty much making it impossible for me to concentrate on anything since then except wanting to get you naked again.”

Maybe she will cry, just for a different reason. She blinks the tears back as best she can and smiles happily. “I can help you out with that.”

She catches a quick glimpse of the lust that flashes across his face but then there’s only the sparks behind her eyelids as the heat flares between them again, bigger and impossibly hotter than before as his mouth covers hers demandingly and his hands roam everywhere he can reach. She can’t think, feels like she’s dreaming and then suddenly his tongue licks over her stiff nipple and she has no idea where her shirt went, let alone her bra, too caught up in sensation and the utter relief that her feelings are returned. It’s a powerful feeling, being in love and loved, and when Murphy tears his mouth away from her breasts and kisses down her neck as he speaks into her skin, telling her that they better go back to their apartment before he can’t stop, she laughs and tells him they passed the point of not stopping the first day they met. 

“It was inevitable, you mean?”

“Exactly,” she agrees. “And I don’t want to wait any longer.” 

She gives him one more deep kiss and then pushes back from his lap, carefully getting her legs under her so she can maneuver over the center console and to the backseat. She unzips the back of her skirt, letting it fall down to the floor so she’s naked except for her black stockings and her leg brace. Her backseat is big compared to a lot of vehicles, but she has a feeling she’s going to need the added maneuverability of her brace if they’re going to make this work. 

The way he watches her reminds her again of the night she masturbated for him, that same wondrous feeling that makes her feel powerful surging through her as she sits back against the seat and spreads her legs. She knows what it feels like to have his mouth on her now but as amazing as it was, she needs him _inside_ her. 

“Anyone can see us in here,” Murphy warns gruffly, but he’s already moving into the back and she knows he has no intentions of stopping now either. Miraculously he’s still fully dressed, his clothes only rumpled where she’s tugged his shirt from his pants so she could slide her hands up his chest, and now that he’s in front of her she can see the dark stain all along the outline of his erection from where her arousal has soaked into his pants. Her nipples harden at the sight and her lips curve at the way his hair is sticking up from having her hands in it. She’d wanted to do that since she first spotted him tonight. She likes getting him messy. 

“The windows are fogged up even if someone tries to look in. And they’ll only get fogged up more if we do this right.”

He runs a finger along the band of lace at the top of her stocking, crowding her back against the seat until she’s forced to lay down to make room for him. Not that she minds. She can tell the stockings are a hit, enjoying the way he can’t keep his hands off them. 

“You like the _idea_ of getting caught.” He grins at her knowingly and reaches under the passenger seat, pulling out the blanket she keeps folded under it because she likes to be prepared for emergencies. “But I know you don’t actually want to _be_ caught.”

It was true. The possibility of getting caught turned her on and he’d known it, figured out a way to give her that experience in the club while still keeping it all relatively safe because of the plan he’d come up with. And now grabbing the blanket, just in case they needed to cover up. Yeah, she really loves him. 

“You’re right about that. And you know I liked what you came up with tonight, especially once you told me your whole plan so I’d see just how brilliant you were with it. But there are still some things you don’t know,” Raven teases. 

“Such as?” It’s an awkward fit but he makes a space for himself between her legs, resting his weight on his arms as he sucks her left nipple into his mouth. He has to repeat the question again when she doesn’t answer, too lost in the way he grinds himself against her core to even remember what they were talking about. 

“I’m not actually an exhibitionist,” Raven gasps. “I just like how it feels when _you_ look at me when I’m naked. I want all your attention.” 

“You can be naked in our apartment any fucking time you want,” Murphy vows between kisses along her collarbone, “and I will look at you every single second of it and give you my complete attention in any way you want.” 

Please, please let him mean that. She might seriously never wear clothes at home again. This time, it’s his turn to gasp when she reaches for the zipper on his pants, her palm finally brushing against the hard cock she’s fantasized so much about, and she figures she might as well blurt out something else while she still has a functioning brain cell. 

“I can’t explain it and I really want to tear your clothes off but it also makes me really hot when you’re dressed and I’m naked. I want you to fuck me just like this, with your clothes on, the way I wanted you to the other night in my bedroom.”

Murphy goes still on top of her, his breath hot against the skin of her neck. 

“You have no idea,” he grits out, his voice low and urgent, “how fucking hard it was for me to leave you like that. The scent of you, the taste of you, how you looked when you gave yourself an orgasm...I came so many times that night; couldn’t get my dick to calm down. We’re going to do that again, baby. You’re going to touch yourself for me and I’m going to watch you get wet, but this time after you come I’m going to fuck you nice and rough, just like we both wanted that night. And I’m going to make you come so hard you can’t keep quiet. You’ll scream for me so loud and you won’t care who hears you, will you Raven?”

Holy fuck his dirty talk gets her all worked up. She wants it so bad, everything he said he’d do to her and she can’t stop writhing against his body, impatient for all of it now as she whimpers beneath him, desperate for his fingers, his cock to be inside her, god she needs to come again. 

“Please. Murphy, please.” She doesn’t even sound like herself, her voice throaty and eager as she begs him. 

“You want this?” 

Her hands clench his shoulders as he finally drags a finger through her soaked pussy, her body jumping in response to the stimulation. It slips inside her so easily and Raven throws her head back, moaning at the heat and friction. It’s so, so good but she wants more as her hips rise to meet his movements. 

Murphy leans down, biting gently on her earlobe to make her shiver. “This is fitting, you know. Us in the backseat of your Jeep.” 

She moans again as he pushes his finger deeper, thrusting in and out so slowly, rendering her barely able to concentrate even though she wants to know what he means. God, how is it so much better than her own fingers?

“This was the first place we were alone together. You gave me a ride to check out your apartment while Bellamy waited for us at the bar, and I remember I was trying so hard to listen to what you were saying so I didn’t come off like a jerk, but you were just so beautiful with your sarcastic comments and opinions about everything.”

Murphy removes his finger as he pauses his story, and her eyes fly open, unsure if she’s more distraught over the loss of his touch or his words. He’s got that possessive glint in his eyes she likes so much as he stares down at her, and she wonders if he knows what it does to her when he looks at her like that. 

“Thought about this back then. Of telling you to pull over so I could get you naked in the backseat.” His tongue swirls around the finger that was just inside her, and she almost, _almost_ opens her mouth to tell him he’s being a dramatic little tease when his gaze sharpens in on her once more and she presses her lips shut. 

“And now look at us. I’ve got you right where I wanted you, naked in your backseat. But now that I’m telling you this story, I’m starting to think maybe it wasn’t just lust I felt that day.”

Alright, maybe he’s a dramatic, _romantic_ little tease. But at this point, if he doesn’t stop teasing and fuck her, well, she’s going to have to take drastic measures. Which is what she tells him. 

“Murphy, that is incredibly sweet but I swear if you don’t fuck me right this minute I am going to find my keys and drive us out of this fucking parking lot and you are going to have to wait for some other time to get me naked in my backseat.”

“Probably that threat shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but I do like it when you get bossy.” 

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, rifling through it until he lifts out a square of foil and tears the wrapper with his teeth in a way that Raven wouldn’t think would be sexy but really, really is when he does it. 

“I know that about you already,” she sighs in exasperation, “and I also want to know if I’m going to like it when you fuck me but at this rate I’ll never find out!”

“You’re going to like it,” he assures her, unfastening the rest of his pants before leaning down to kiss her again. Slow this time, thorough and relentless as he stokes the fire within her. She’s aching and needy again in minutes, pushing her breasts up and into the fabric of his dress shirt, liking the way her nipples get even stiffer as she rubs against the buttons. He slips a hand down between her bottom and the seat, lifting her ass up to grind himself hard against her clit, and she wrenches her mouth away to cry out but his lips chase hers and he swallows her passionate gasps and mewls until she’s breathless and soaked. 

She feels him shift between her legs as his kiss gets rougher, messier, and she senses him rolling the condom over his cock before he strokes it down her slit, so hot and heavy and hard that she might die from the pleasure of it. From the sound of his own drawn-out moan, it feels good to him too. 

“Fuck, Raven. So wet. Loved getting my mouth on you earlier, feeling you come while I licked you.” He pushes forward, slowly entering her as she stretches around his cock.

“Hurry,” Raven almost sobs, desperate to buck her hips up to take all of him at once, but the confined space of the backseat and the way Murphy fits between her thighs doesn’t allow for much movement. The wait is agonizing, his cock forcing her open inch by inch so perfectly but she just needs to be _filled_. 

“No, baby,” Murphy breathes, straining against her. “Been waiting so long for this, gonna take my time. Fuck you slow and deep til you come all over me.” 

She whines in frustration, arching her back underneath him to try and force him deeper. He bites the side of her neck in retaliation, just hard enough to still her movements as he stops before he’s halfway inside. 

“So impatient. Wrap your legs around me.”

“Murphy,” she pleads, doing exactly what he asks, and he sinks in a little further as he hikes her thigh higher. “Please, I need more.”

“I know you do. And I’m going to give it to you. But first I’m going to drive you crazy, give you a taste of what you’ve been putting me through.” He slides his thumb over her nipple, cupping her breast in his rough hand before leaning down to suck the hard bud into his mouth. 

Raven clutches at his shoulders, trapped between him and the seat. It’s maddening that she can’t get much leverage, can’t plunge herself onto his dick because he already feels incredible. It’s difficult to give up control, to lie there and take what he gives her, but as he continues to steadily drive forward, achingly slow and deliberate, his thickness forces her open, the stretch burning so good as she focuses on it, tightening the muscles of her pussy to clench around him, testing how it feels, a low moan escaping her lips as her whole body feels on the brink of something spectacular. 

He lifts his head from her breasts, his voice strangled and out of breath as he looks down at her. “Fuck, you’re not playing fair.”

“Neither are you,” she accuses, her own words not exactly steady. She was right, before. About how it would be different with Murphy, better. Impossible to explain it but the years of tension built up between them feel like they’re under her skin somehow, sparking off constant explosions in her nerve endings and behind her eyelids until her mind goes blank and all that’s left is the instinctive drive toward fulfillment. 

Murphy’s head drops to her shoulder with a grunt when she manages to tilt her hips up and drive his length deeper, the pressure unrelenting. He’s so hot, burning her up from the inside as she digs her heels along the backs of his thighs to get him closer, his dick throbbing inside her to match the thrumming of her heart. His body stills, unmoving as he breathes harshly against her neck, the air in the car humid and thick around them. Even without him being all the way inside her, she’s so close to coming, her hands fisting in the material of his shirt to try to pull him in tighter. Inexplicably, a few stray tears stream from her eyes as she’s all of a sudden overwhelmed with the significance of what they’re doing. 

He must feel the wetness from her cheek, because he lifts his forehead to look at her, the darkness of the car not enough to disguise the intensity in his eyes. She can’t look away, doesn’t want this to ever stop, and then the quiet, intimate atmosphere between them is broken by the uncontrollable moan she makes as the hard, broad head of his cock impales her the last few inches, filling her completely the way she's desperate for. 

Gritting his teeth, Murphy draws his hips back, easing them forward again in a steady rhythm exactly as promised - so deep and achingly slow it’s almost torture. Raven’s eyes flutter closed and she feels his palm against her jaw before he kisses her, deep and hard just like how he fucks her. Every time he withdraws from her body feels like a loss, only to be followed by the sweet drag of his shaft stretching her wider on each new stroke. He’s so controlled, thrusting inside her like he has all the time in the world, his hands urging her on and his mouth so possessive. She feels like she’s out of control, full to bursting, tossing her head back with a shuddering cry as she trembles and shakes, her pussy spasming around him with a wet rush, drawing him even deeper. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s it. Feel so hot coming on my cock, so wet and tight. Never gonna stop fucking you after this. In my bed, yours, on the couch, the kitchen counter, the goddamn floor. Thought about fucking you so many times on my desk.” His thrusts begin to speed up, becoming more erratic and Murphy reaches between them, traces his thumb over her clit to extend her orgasm as she tries to squirm away, the combined stimulation pushing her body into another peak as she calls out his name. 

His fingers grab the back of her thigh on her good leg, pushing her knee towards her chest so he can penetrate her even deeper with one last fierce onslaught, his dick pulsing inside her as his control finally snaps. 

“Fucking perfect,” he groans, and if she was capable, she’d agree with him. Instead, she lets out a weak little mewl after he collapses his weight onto her, tightening her legs around his hips when he tries to move away. They lay like that, his head resting near her breast and her fingers mindlessly running through his hair, until he mutters something about being careful. 

Lifting away from her, she immediately feels chilled as he slips out, his fingers deftly holding onto the condom and tying it off, dropping it somewhere on the floor. Raven watches as he picks up the blanket, attempting to help him smooth it out over them as they contort their bodies so they’ll both fit on the backseat together. She ends up mostly on top of him once they figure it out, nuzzling her face into his neck while his arms hold her close. 

Murphy kisses the top of her head, making her smile. There’s only one thing that could make this night even better, and the thought turns her grin into a naughty smirk. Maybe she’s shameless, but her naked limbs sprawled out on his clothed body have her thinking about peeling them all off him.

Raven cranes her neck just enough so she can peer down at her roommate. Friend. Lover. Man she’s head over heels in love with. They all work to describe him. 

“You forgot to mention my chair.”

“I’m gonna need you to be more specific,” Murphy mutters, his eyes closed. 

“When you were talking about places in our apartment you want to fuck me,” Raven explains, suppressing her laughter as his eyes pop open with obvious interest. “You forgot to say the chair in my bedroom. That’s where I want to do it. I want to sit on your lap with your cock inside me.” His blue eyes turn dark with arousal. Oh yeah. He’s definitely interested. 

“How about I make you a deal?” Murphy asks, his voice husky as his fingers trail down her leg, slipping under the lace edge of her thigh high stockings. 

She practically purrs an affirmative as his fingers get dangerously close to starting trouble, sliding up higher on her thigh before skipping back down to the stockings again. 

“Gimme five minutes, then I’ll drive us home. And you’ll keep these on while you ride me.”

Yep. She knew the stockings were a winner. Thinking on it, there’s really only one thing she can say, echoing the same words he used on her while she waited in agony on their couch, wondering if she’d pushed things too far between them when she’d texted him the bold offer to masturbate for him. God, that had her twisted into a ball of anxiety less than a week ago, and now she feels like she could float to the stars. 

“Consider it done.” 

She leans down to seal the deal with a kiss, and it takes them a lot longer than five minutes to get up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate your kudos and comments very much!

**Author's Note:**

> I can hardly believe we're 35 Murven stories in at this point! Thanks for reading, especially you guys who put up with everything I put out. You know who you are and I appreciate it more than I can say! Your support definitely makes me want to keep writing. Here's to the next 35, hmm? 😏


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